Traitor in the Mist
by Colonel Andarion
Summary: Part 1 of 3 in my Honorable Soldiers arc. The Colonel is dead. Rynn is insane. The end is near. What happens next? Read to find out.
1. The New Recruit

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, just all original characters that are presented herein.  
  
This is the story of a young OZ commander by the name of Tobias Andarion and his struggle against the Gundams with a powerful Mobile Suit of his own. Throughout his days he will experience the thrill of war, the heartache of love, and painful loss of death. But he is a man, and he will cope in any way he can, even if it means killing those who have hurt him the most. The story begins.  
  
*****  
  
"Sir, the colony is clean. There is no sign of resistance left. All who opposed have been destroyed or captured."  
  
Colonel Tobias Andarion growled, a deep vibration that came from deep within his throat and resonated across the office. "How many killed? And captured?"  
  
"Seventeen killed and six captured. The rest ran into space."  
  
He grunted. "Too many got away. Start the drill over. After you let them eat, of course."  
  
The hologram of the colony faded, once again changing the room into a bland collection of walls and Virtual Reality units. The soldiers below all took of their helmets and stared around, readjusting to the reality around them and dismissing the illusion of the VR units. They began to file out of the room and went to the mess hall to eat. It was lunch time, after all.  
  
"Would you like to see the scores, Sir?"  
  
"That would be nice."  
  
He looked at the pile of paper that was placed in front of him. "You are dismissed. Come back with the next batch of scores. We'll talk more than."  
  
After his aide left, he began to rifle through the papers, glancing long enough to see the overall score, kills, and damage taken to dealt ratio. He suddenly stopped, staring at the paper in front of him. He began to read the other statistics. Kills: six. Perfect score. No damage taken. Perfect accuracy. Who was this man?  
  
His gray eyes moved to the upper right corner and narrowed. It was a woman, and her name was Robyn Goodfellow. A pilot of her caliber did not come across this facility very often. He would have to talk to her. He rose and proceeded to the mess.  
  
His eyes glanced around before he spotted the table where the women sat. They were busy talking and laughing, and he hated to interrupt their good time, since there were so little in a war. But he was the Colonel, and others did his bidding.  
  
He slowly walked over and changed his mood to one of awkwardness and shyness. It was a ploy of course, to throw them off guard. He walked over, acting timid. "Excuse me, ladies?"  
  
They stopped their conversation and turned to him.  
  
"Can we help you?" They eyed him critically, noticing a lack of rank, insignia, and ribbons or other awards. They brushed him off as a flake.  
  
"I'm looking for a Miss Robyn Goodfellow. Do you know where I can find her?"  
  
They looked at each other before laughing at him. "Why? You gonna ask her out or something?"  
  
He smiled and answered. "And what if I am? I can do whatever I damn well please."  
  
They stared at him incredulously. "What a loser. Who do you think you are, the Colonel?"  
  
"Actually, I am. Colonel Tobias Andarion, OZ Special Forces Corps, 3rd division, Blackhawks."  
  
They stared at him in stunned silence. Finally, one girl stood up, her unruly mop of red hair tied into a loose ponytail. "I'm who you're looking for. What of it?"  
  
The first thing he noticed about her was her height, or lack of it. She seemed to be around five feet tall, giving him an easy foot and a half over her. He found it slightly disorienting.  
  
"I wish to talk to you about your scores. They were much different than the scores of all your peers." The crowd of girls began to whisper again. "Much better. Will you follow me, please?"  
  
He led her to a quiet corner of the room, motioning for her to sit. He remained standing out of habit. "What I have here is your performance reports for the most recent test. I would like to share them with you. After you read them, I have a proposition for you."  
  
She took the folder from him and scanned it, stopping every now and then to shake her head and mutter. When she was done, she looked up. "Surely there's some mistake. I couldn't have done this, there's no way. I'm too clumsy."  
  
"Those are your scores. The test computer makes no mistakes."  
  
She sat in silence for a moment. Eventually she ventured to ask, "What does this mean?"  
  
"It means I would like to invite you to join the Blackhawks. You still need time to develop, however I see a potential in you that I have not seen in a long time. The offer stands for as long as you need to think about it. When you decide, tell me. You can find me in either my office or the hangar, working on my project. I take my leave of you. Good day." He turned to leave but was stopped.  
  
"I don't need time to think about it. I would be honored to join your Blackhawks. What do I do?"  
  
Tobias smiled. "First you need to go to the supply room and get your flight suit. I'll fill you out a form that will get you all the proper equipment fitted so that you can suit up like the rest of us. After that, it's just training, training, training. In any free time that you have, you can dig through our scrapyard and begin constructing a suit of your own. It's what most of our pilots do to pass the time. Plus, it allows them to know their machines like no other."  
  
She smiled eagerly. "I love to tinker. So I'm ready to start now."  
  
"Good." He grabbed a pen out of his pants pocket and filled out a requisition form in the folder on the table. He signed it with his unique scrawl. "Take this to the end of the hall. On your left, you'll find a door similar to the hangar but smaller. In it you'll find Charlie. She'll fit you for everything and have it to you by the end of the day. Next order of business. Your quarters are with the rest of the squadron, however, you are the only female to qualify so you get a room to yourself. The rooms are in the next building on the ground floor. It's easy to find. Any questions?"  
  
"No. Can I go now? I want to get started. This sounds like fun."  
  
He grunted. "War is hell. It's never fun. You can only try to survive." He turned on his heel and strolled out, his white hair and black cape swishing behind him.  
  
*****  
  
Rynn Skye was working in the hangar, its sole occupant, so he naturally turned when the door opened. He was surprised to see a young woman standing in the door, blinking in confusion. He stormed over.  
  
"Are you lost?" His voice rumbled like thunder. "This is Blackhawk territory only."  
  
"I know." Her answer surprised him. "Colonel Andarion sent me to supply but I think I got lost."  
  
He eyed her skeptically. "The Colonel sent you. To supply? That makes it seem like you're joining the squad."  
  
Her answer was defiant. "I am. I'm looking for supply so I can pick up stuff."  
  
"Right. Let me see the requisition. Otherwise I'll have to call security and forcibly remove you."  
  
Her verdant eyes snapped angrily. She took the requisition out of her pocket and handed it to him smugly. "Here you go, Mister Hotshot."  
  
He took a moment to scan the paper before handing it back. "You know you're going to catch all kinds of shit. Women aren't welcome here. This is a man's squadron."  
  
"I guess you guys will just have to learn, eh? And I bet I can out shoot you any day of the week." Her voice was boastful, and her eyes seemed to back up that boast.  
  
Rynn eyed her scornfully. "Let me show you something. Follow me real quick."  
  
He turned and led her into the depths of the hangar, where she saw several unique Mobile Suits. Each impressed her with its style and weapons. She ignored the hiss from the entrance and continued delving deeper into the hangar, following him until he stopped before the door to the scrapheap.  
  
"In here is the scrapheap. It's also where my mobile Suit is moored. Whenever someone dumps something there, I'm the first to know and the first to get a chance to claim it."  
  
"I notice that the scrapheap is also the farthest from the exit. I guess that means you're also the last one out of here in a fight. What's wrong, afraid to get hurt? Or do you not have a decent enough Mobile Suit to bring into combat." Her voice scathed him and he winced.  
  
"Ouch." The Colonel stepped out of the shadows. "She got you there. You have to admit, you walked into that."  
  
"I know. But what she said is completely untrue. You know my Suit is one of the highest rated in the squadron."  
  
"Easy Rynn. I never agreed with her. I just said she got you there."  
  
"Yes, Sir. I'm going to go work some on my Suit. I take my leave." He bowed once and entered the scrapheap, muttering about the state of the world.  
  
"And you. Why aren't you at the supply office? I thought that's where I sent you." He eyed her.  
  
"I thought this was the room. And then I got into an argument with him. And then you came in, so I really haven't had time."  
  
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe I should take you there so you can find it. Follow me."  
  
He turned and walked slowly so she could keep up. She ran at first, and eventually settled at a brisk walk. While they were walking through the construction zone, she looked around and asked, "Which one is yours?"  
  
She didn't see him smile, but he stopped and pointed. "That one right there."  
  
She turned to look and stared in open shock. It was massive; there was no other word. It stood about twenty meters tall and was painted a matte black. It blended almost perfectly with the shadows, except the weapons. They gleamed with every ray of light that struck them. She asked hesitantly, "Why does it glow like that? The weapons, I mean."  
  
He grinned boyishly, in his element. "Crystal diffraction. I built the weapons for my self with the ability to attract any source of light to use as an energy source. The plasma rifle is strong enough without energy reserves, but in the full sunlight, it can destroy a Gundam if aimed properly. Fortunately, I have never needed to use it. Just the size alone will intimidate most opponents into surrendering. If that doesn't work, I have ways to persuade them, anything from my Katana to the name itself."  
  
"Name?"  
  
His eyes closed and he smiled grimly. "It's name is Blackheart."  
  
*****  
  
The next day, Robyn stared at the portion of the hangar she had been given. It was a small, cramped space, but she could learn to work in it. She would just build a smaller Mobile Suit. She turned as the ceiling opened and a cargo carrier gently landed. The pilot jumped out and looked around before spotting her.  
  
He jogged over. "You a member of them Blackhawks?"  
  
"Yes, sir, I am."  
  
He grinned. "They finally got around to hiring a woman, did they? Cause I believe in proper etiquette, I think you get to look through this load of junk first, se if there's anything you want. And lemme tell ya, there's some right decent stuff this time."  
  
She grinned back, noticing the sparkle in his eye, and then followed him to the freight hauler. He crawled up the side and looked into the huge carrying bay at the collection of metals and parts. Her eye caught a nearly unblemished chunk of metal. "Can you tell me, what's that big piece over there?"  
  
"Don't know one I work for know. But I can tell you, it's real rare. Should grab it while you can, before that stuck up piece o' shit who calls himself Rynn grabs it for himself."  
  
"I'll take it, along with any wire you got in there. I'll need a lotta that, too."  
  
"All rightie then. I can do that, especially fer a pretty girl like you." He turned and clamored up and held a brief talk with the operator of the hauler. After a second he dropped down again. "Charlie'll have it here in a second. Anything else you need? Just ask, ya know."  
  
"What's you're name?"  
  
"Seth, ma'am. Just Seth."  
  
"Seth. I'll remember that. And if you find one, can you get me the frame to an MS? I need somewhere to start." She blushed and turned her head away.  
  
"Hey, no pro-bro-blemo. There's a war going on, so I can probably dig somethin' up. Now don't you worry about anything. I'll get it to ya pronto." He then tipped his hat and left, leaving a bewildered girl in his wake.  
  
She turned to her space where the mysterious piece of metal had been deposited, but she found she didn't have the heart to work. Why did she have butterflies in her stomach? No man had ever made her feel this way before. Was it the way he talked, or was it his disarming personality? Her head ached at the thoughts running around before she just shook her head.  
  
"He has that effect on all the women." She jumped and turned to see Tobias leaning in the doorframe. "You'll get over it eventually. He was moved here to keep from interfering with other squadron's women. But now they might move him again."  
  
"There's nothing like that, I can assure you."  
  
"Tell that to your flush. You look like you just fell in love." He looked at her knowingly. "Trust me, I was there once. Love just doesn't work out if you're in the military."  
  
She became mad, angry with herself for being so easily read. "How do you do that? You seem to know what a person's thinking."  
  
"It's my little secret. But that's the whole reason they made me a Colonel and gave me my own squadron. I don't mean to, it just happens." He shrugged his narrow shoulders, sending a ripple down his cape. "What're you up to?"  
  
"I was looking at the area I was given to use as mine. Not a lot of room, but I can cope. I'll just have to compensate with a shorter MS. I just grabbed some stuff from the scrap hauler so I can start building as soon as I get a frame. Seth said he'd try to get me one."  
  
"Actually, I have a spare frame in the hangar somewhere. No one uses it so if you need it, you can use it. It's a little taller than this area but I can make some adjustments so it will fit standing up like the rest of them."  
  
"What kind of frame is it?"  
  
"Upgraded, downsized Tallgeese."  
  
"Tallgeese? I thought that belonged to Zechs Marquise."  
  
"They were mass-produced at one time, until tests proved them to be unreliable for extended periods of fighting. Then they started producing Leos. It's there if you need it. Besides, it looks like you have enough room here for a coupla frames, at least. You can take the best from each."  
  
She nodded hesitantly. "What's the catch?"  
  
"It's been gutted of most of its important equipment so you'll have to look to find anything useful."  
  
"That's it?"  
  
"No, you don't owe me anything. That comes later, when you get something of greater importance. This is only something that's required to be a part of this squadron. I'll go talk to the guy who moves the stuff around here. Wait here a minute if you want. I'll be right back."  
  
He jogged into the darkness, leaving her alone, bewildered with her thoughts.  
  
*****  
  
I have the start to something here that I think can have a lot of potential. However, I need some help coming up with some more pilots for the Blackhawks. Which means that if you want to appear in this, you can send me a pilot/MS profile for me to use. I would appreciate it very much.  
  
Until the next chapter, The Colonel 


	2. Super Trouble

Standard Disclaimer  
  
*****  
  
Tobias stared at the wall a second, preparing his mind for the task at hand. Slowly, carefully, he lowered his fingers onto the piano in front of him and struck a note, a deep mournful sound that resonated across the room. He struck a second note, this one higher and lilting, hovering in the air. He continued, his nimble fingers dancing across the keyboard, pressing the keys and playing a dark, brooding nocturne. The mood in the room darkened as the piece continued, the very air seeming to become dark and thick with the grim melody.  
  
He stopped at the end of the piece and paused a moment, taking a deep breath before beginning the second piece in his practice schedule, this one faster, angrier. The music ripped open the room, exposing the darkness inherent to all the objects within. His mind wandered as his fingers plucked the keys to this music he had so long ago memorized. He did not realize someone was knocking on his door until he finished the piece.  
  
Slowly his eyes opened, the darkest taint disappearing from them, returning to their normal silver-gray. He shook his head once, erasing all memories of his practice for the morning and stood to answer the door. "Come in. It's open."  
  
The double doors slid open with a silent hiss and Vick entered the room. The black man grinned. "Playin' again, boss? You should really get it recorded."  
  
Tobias smiled grimly. "And actively warp the future of this world? Sounds like fun. Maybe after the war. Now what did you come here for?"  
  
"Trouble in the scrapyard. Seems Seth brought in a frame for the new girl and Rynn staked a claim to it. They've almost pulled their guns."  
  
His eyebrow rose slightly. "Be interesting to see how that turns out. But to save Rynn, gotta stop this now."  
  
"Don't have faith in his ability to fight?"  
  
"Don't trust him not to pull a gun in this situation. Him and her got off on the wrong foot yesterday and they don't really seem to get along that well."  
  
"Let's go then, eh boss?"  
  
Tobias grabbed his shirt and followed Vick into the hangar, where Robyn and Rynn were in each other's faces. He smiled in amusement to see the short, redheaded girl on her tiptoes, yelling at him with the same ferocity he had as he looked down at her. Behind them stood the scrap shuttle and the dirty remains of an Aries Mobile Suit. It gleamed dully in the morning sun and both newcomers were surprised to see that the only problem was a large, fairly obvious hole where the cockpit should have been. The rest of the squadron was staring at the confrontation and did not care about the damaged Suit. They approached and listened a second.  
  
"I don't care if it was promised to you, I got here first and I claimed it as my own!"  
  
"But isn't one of the values of this squadron treat the others like family? By putting yourself above the others you only prove you disowned yourself!"  
  
"That doesn't matter. One of the accepted rules of this 'family' is first come, first serve."  
  
"Where is that rule written?"  
  
"It's an accepted rule. It doesn't need to be written!"  
  
"I'll believe this rule when I see it. Where is it written?"  
  
They glared at one another before Tobias interrupted them. "You're both right and wrong at the same time. You," he pointed to Rynn, "I promised her that frame as a start of her own Mobile Suit. My word is final, just like your unwritten rules exist. And you," he pointed to Robyn, "He's right on this, like it or not. However, your point about the squadron is family is correct. And families share, don't they Rynn?"  
  
Rynn muttered under his breath a second while she grinned triumphantly.  
  
"And if any more complaints come up, bring them to me before making a spectacle for everyone."  
  
They both nodded before she eagerly climbed into the hole in the Aries and began tinkering. Rynn stood dejectedly, his head drooped and his blue eyes burning. He slowly turned around and stalked into the scraps.  
  
*****  
  
She hummed happily as she jumped from one frame to the other, clutching wires in her mouth as she flew, grabbing some protrusion at the last second and settling gracefully to attach the wires to some new function. She pressed the button next to where the wires trailed and waited a second. There was a sputter as power tried to enter the defunct suit before a single spark arced through the air.  
  
"Dammit! I don't know how to do this!" She kicked this suit angrily. After a second there was a burst and power entered the system, coming on- line and staying so. She blinked and began to laugh gleefully. I guess all I need to do this is a little know-how. Laughing at her joke, she leapt back to the other suit and grabbed another handful of wires.  
  
*****  
  
A knock interrupted Tobias's meditation. He opened his eyes and stared at the door. He blinked several times before standing and opening it to find an excited Robyn before him. She bounced up and down, rocking on her heels as she waited for him to answer. When she looked again she jumped and grinned. "I found something I think you should see. She held up a small video memory unit, the type used in Mobile Suit cameras.  
  
Slowly he took, his thoughts mixed on what this was. He hesitated a second. "Thank you. I'll take a look." After a short pause, "If you want to, you can too."  
  
She glanced around once before slowly walking into his room, surprised by how dark it was. She was about to say something when he flipped on a light in the corner and stuck the memory unit into a projector.  
  
At first the screen was a blur of static, but slowly a picture revealed itself. It seemed the camera was on the Aries frame and it was making a strike on a...Gundam? He hit pause and stared at the image. It was several minutes before he spoke again. "I know where that is. That's Philadelphia, in the United States."  
  
"But what's that odd Mobile Suit?"  
  
"Gundam 02."  
  
"Gundam?"  
  
"They are the terrorists who we fight. Without them the world would be a more peaceful place. But they insist on making life living hell for those unlucky enough to get in their way. They seem driven to eliminate our organization. That's why we exist. To track down the Gundams and either capture or destroy them."  
  
"So you've seen them before then."  
  
"Once. A Gundam fired upon the colony where my wife and daughter lived. The colony was obliterated."  
  
There was silence.  
  
He spoke again after a while. "What would a Gundam be doing in Philadelphia?"  
  
"Isn't there supposed to be some big event coming up?"  
  
Tobias's eyes widened. "The American Super Bowl. It's the once a year championship game they hold for their football league. Our OZ commanders are supposed to attend it this year as guests of honor. It must be an assassination attempt on our top officials."  
  
"How long until the Super Bowl?"  
  
"It's tonight. We can make it if we hurry. Is your Suit ready?"  
  
She blushed slightly, the color a shade deeper than her hair. "Not yet. The basic systems are up but I have no weapons."  
  
"Find Vick. We call him the Armory because he always has a lot of spare weapons lying around. I'm sure he'll lend you a couple."  
  
She straightened up and nodded once before disappearing through the door. He turned to the comm unit to spread the code red.  
  
*****  
  
Vick was on his computer when the girl ran up to him. His eyebrow raised as he watched her pant for a second before talking. "What's the rush, lil' lady?"  
  
She started at the words "lil' lady" and bristled. Her anger dissipated at his laughter. "What's so funny?"  
  
"You. I ain't never seen take so much offense at such a well-intended compliment. So what can I do for ya?"  
  
"I need some weapons for my Mobile Suit. We're leaving on a mission to Philadelphia."  
  
He leaned back in his chair and looked at her thoughtfully before jumping up. "I can help you, ya?"  
  
He led her into a smaller area where large lockers sat lined along the walls. He turned to her. "So whatcha think your Suit can use? Got lightweight, midweight, and heavyweight weapons. Just depends on your fighting style." His shoulders shrugged.  
  
She looked down the lockers before stopping on a long thin rod. It was made of titanium and had a single split along one end. She eyed it for a minute before pointing. "I'll take that."  
  
"You sure bout that? I ain't figured out what it is yet."  
  
"Then maybe I will. If you'll set it out please, I can grab it on exit."  
  
The black man grinned at her. "You sure got a knack for planning, eh? Maybe you can be Log."  
  
She smiled at him, the first person she was truly comfortable with. "Maybe, huh?"  
  
He looked down at his waist. "Whoa, we got a code red. I'll set your thingie out so you can grab it on the way out." Then he was gone and she turned to leave to her own Suit. The conflict was beginning. 


	3. First Quarter

The football field glittered under the lights, the white stripes gleaming in the light. The crowd was restless, uneasy almost, waiting for the teams to emerge and the game to begin. A single face turned to the sky, his dark eyes glinting and a smile plastered across his face. There was the reviewing stand, where the OZ bigwigs were supposed to be. He turned and vanished, not before tossing his ticket to a surprised fan.  
  
"Keep it. Fifty-yard line. I don't need it any more."  
  
*****  
  
Vick glanced around, comfortable in his element. This was the place to be, crowds of revelers partying at the thought of their team walking away with the most prestigious of the sport's awards: the Super Bowl ring.  
  
His head snapped around as he saw a person duck away into the shadows, a shadow dressed in black. He turned and followed, his height helping him follow his suspect. He wound between the crowds, almost losing him several times but always spotting his elusive form every time.  
  
Eventually they emerged outside and wove through the waiting lines into an alley. He was gone. Shaking his head in bewilderment, Vick returned to his post.  
  
*****  
  
"Please, sir, you must not attend this event."  
  
Tobias's eyes glinted in the shadows.  
  
"I will do as I wish. This is a goodwill visit to our American friends. We need their military to fight the Gundams."  
  
Colonel David Nyroska stood imperiously above his counterpart. His brown hair was combed into a severe wave, covering his bald spot. His face showed his thirty years of service, the wrinkles intermingled with scars. His eyes were young, however, and had a spark of intelligence not normally seen in a man of his longevity of service.  
  
"Sir, we have reason to believe a Gundam may be here, waiting for a chance like this. We cannot risk someone as important as you."  
  
"You really feel that way? I almost feel touched."  
  
"Sir, you don't understand."  
  
"I understand better than you think. If I must die to get this to work, than so be it."  
  
Tobias's mind whirled for a second before he knew what was going on. "You knew."  
  
"Yes. I put so much publicity on this hoping to attract something like this. If I die, the United States will have an obligation to assist. My life will have had some meaning."  
  
"But your life has had meaning. Just look at your military career. One of the best."  
  
"Life is not about fighting. Learn that."  
  
"Some people have no choice but to fight. If they did, the world would be less violent."  
  
"So then you feel you have no choice. You can still get out."  
  
"And risk the outcry of the High Command? It takes too long and too much money to become a Colonel that I would be so easily forgotten."  
  
"Watch. In my years I have learned that a Colonel is as easily missed as any other soldier."  
  
Before he could react, Tobias was bound and gagged. His eyes burned with anger at the betrayal.  
  
Nyroska bent down and stared right into the burning pits of his eyes. "You know too much. You'll stay here as I get killed and help end this ridiculous insurgence."  
  
*****  
  
The locker rooms were empty, as both teams filed out to give their best effort. This was the place to be for them as well, the electricity of the air crackling and charging them, urging them to play their best. They grinned like boys, except for quarterback Jamal Henrix. He was disturbed by the visit of a man in black to his locker room, telling him his game would influence the life of the crowd.  
  
Was he being told to throw the game? He couldn't worry now, the starting lineups were being announced. He jogged onto the field with the rest of his team, slowing down to stare.  
  
The atmosphere was frenzied, the fans going crazy since the game had begun. Their roar filled the air and thundered around the stadium, resonating upon itself until it was a constant roar. He gaped, never before having seen such frenzy. Not in his first start, not as his team clinched the wildcard spot, not as his team upset the top-ranked Philadelphia Eagles.  
  
Faintly he heard his name being called over the loudspeaker. "And starting at quarterback, making his first Super Bowl appearance, Jamal Henrix!" The voice continued with his statistics. "Breaking most rookie records at quarterback this season, Jamal has amassed almost 3000 yards passing and 20 touchdowns. Most impressive, however, are his playoff games, upset after upset against the top teams of the NFC. Can he now beat the powerhouse Oakland Raiders and their feared blitz-happy defense? Only this game will tell."  
  
He could only stand and weep. Never had he dreamed of this, starting in the Super Bowl in his rookie year. But he would have to throw the game to save the 70000 people in the stands.  
  
*****  
  
Nyroska mounted the visitors' platform, his uniform glittering under the harsh spotlights, the medallions and ribbons glowing from the glare. His gaze swept across the rowdy crowds, smiling grimly to himself. This would be their end, he thought.  
  
His gaze fell upon the field and the slumped Atlanta quarterback. Why was he so upset? It would be the game of his life. Too bad it would be the last one, as well.  
  
*****  
  
Jamal lined up behind his offensive line, his hands ready to grab the ball at his command.  
  
"Hike!"  
  
The ball flew into his grip, settling itself comfortably as he readied himself like he had so many times. He did not see the three hundred-pound Darien Preston come around and spring; instead he felt the presence and rolled around to the left, barely dodging the strike.  
  
Panicking, he lobbed the ball ahead of him and took a hit, spilling him to the ground. He looked up to see the defense dancing and groaned. Interception. What a way to start the game.  
  
Up in the stands, a man in black smiled.  
  
*****  
  
Robyn looked out her viewscreens as she waited. So boring, she thought.  
  
She flipped a switch and scanned the frequencies. Everything was a buzz of static. Must be the game, she thought. She almost flipped the switch off again before her ears caught something. Slowly she isolated the channel and turned it up. It was a single line of code, repeating itself again and again. She recorded it and began to work on its source and encryption.  
  
*****  
  
The first quarter was almost over. Jamal's eyes blurred a second before he blinked them away. His head buzzed from some of the hits he had taken, his vision occasionally doubling. Again he shook his head. "Hike!"  
  
The ball again flew into his hands again and he ran back and turned. He had some time; the line was doing its job. He scanned the back of the field for a receiver and spotted an open man. His arm hurled the ball to him.  
  
For one brief second Darien Preston jumped and got his hand in front of it. It grazed his fingers and began to flutter; Jamal's heart stopped before watching it flutter into the waiting receiver's arms. He turned and sprinted. Ten yards, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five.  
  
The clock expired as he leapt over the man in his way and collapsed into the end zone, before the kick was made, tying the score at seven apiece.  
  
In the stands, the man in black disappeared again as he felt things started to slip out of control. It was time for action.  
  
*****  
  
In another part of the city, a building disappeared as a hologram field disappeared, revealing a Mobile Suit of great power. It's wings unfurled, revealing the form of the Gundam Deathscythe Hell, the Gundam 02.  
  
*****  
  
Robyn stared at the readout in front of her. She had not found one signal, but instead a mix of several. One was posted on a civilian channel while the other transmitted across the military. She narrowed her eyes and opened the one from the military.  
  
Confusion crossed her as the message repeated a series of long and short beeps. It took a moment to realize it was Morse code, something she had not heard for many years. She pulled a pencil out of a small hole in the cockpit and began to right it down as it appeared.  
  
-.- -. -.-  
  
Her eyes narrowed as she tried to remember what was what.  
  
-.- -. -.-  
  
S. O. S.  
  
Someone was in trouble. She scanned the airwaves again to track the source, finally pinpointing it inside the stadium, a small room near the receiving booth. She quickly launched off a message, ignoring the second signal all together.  
  
*****  
  
Tobias's fingers rubbed the receiver again.  
  
-.- -. -.- S. O. S.  
  
He hoped someone would get the message. The ropes around his wrist were bound too tightly to allow him to get out. He shook his head and rubbed the receiver again.  
  
-.- -. -.-  
  
S. O. S.  
  
*****  
  
Okay, I showed a little bias in this while I was choosing the teams, but hey, I'm the author, right? As for this portion of the story, one of my close friends got me thinking by writing back and forth, throwing ideas around. It helped me decide that the game'll cross four chapters.  
  
Thanks a lot. Colonel 


	4. Anger

"Vick, we got a problem."  
  
The radio signal was distorted from the 70,000 screaming fans but she could see him well enough. He shook his head.  
  
"No kidding. We have to look over an arena full of screaming, crazy men for a single homicidal maniac and stop him from destroying the city."  
  
"I'm getting an SOS signal on military channels. I'll send it too you because its in the arena. Check it out, will ya?"  
  
He grinned at her. "Not a problem."  
  
*****  
  
The score was 17-10. The Raiders had scored another touchdown and Jamal was pressured to drive again to tie the score. He shook his head, wishing he didn't have to balance his desire to play with the man in black's warning of death. He shook slightly and caught the snap. He dropped back three steps and quickly scanned his receivers but found none; instead he found a three-man blitz.  
  
Panicked he immediately scrambled to the right and ran into a fourth defender. Seeing no other option, he leapt, hoping to vault over the defender and continue running, hoping to avoid him and run for a first down. In the air, the man grabbed his legs but slipped, dragging Jamal down with him. His hand touched the ground and he spun, breaking loose and jumping up to continue his run.  
  
As soon as he landed, he was hit by the first three and knocked onto the ground. He groggily stared at the line and realized he had been sacked. Seven yard loss. Ouch. He shakily stood up, wobbling a moment and realizing something was not right. He raised his hands and formed a T, calling a time-out. His head shouldn't be spinning like this. What was wrong with him?  
  
*****  
  
"Colonel?"  
  
Tobias couldn't believe his eyes. Someone had picked up his signal and sent Vick to get him. He grinned boyishly. "Good to see ya. Do me a favor?"  
  
"Sure thing, boss."  
  
"Untie me. I have a score to settle."  
  
"Not a problem."  
  
Quickly Vick got to work, methodically undoing the knots that bound his commanding officer one-by-one. Finally the last one came off and he rubbed his wrists.  
  
"Who picked up the signal? It was one of us, I know. But which one?"  
  
"The new kid, Robyn. She was bored so she scanned the waves. She picked it up and zeroed in on where it was. Since I'm one of the few people who hasn't done anything to her, she trusted me to go after it. Guess it's a good thing she was listening, eh, boss?"  
  
"What about Rynn? Where's he?"  
  
"Well, I don't know. I thought he was with you."  
  
*****  
  
Without warning, a gout of fire erupted around her. Startled, she jetted into the air and scanned to get a better view of the area. Again the guns burst at her, this time from the other side. Startled, she turned and saw the Gundam. It reminded her of Death.  
  
Well then, she thought. I guess I'll just have to cheat Death again.  
  
*****  
  
Nyroska smirked grimly. The fireworks had begun, judging by the panic going over the radio waves. Too bad none of the fools trapped in the stadium would know. They would die before they had a chance to learn.  
  
Picking up his comm link, he glanced at the door. "Send me a chopper to evac. Just me, so it can be small."  
  
He threw the comm link on the ground and faced the door again. This time it was occupied.  
  
"Well, Colonel, I guess we meet again."  
  
Tobias stared at him in silence.  
  
Nyroska looked at him in irritation. "If you plan to be silent, move. I have somewhere to be."  
  
"And while you run away form your conflict, you condemn tens of thousands to die. You are not a man of honor, and as such you no longer have the right to wear the uniform of OZ."  
  
Nyroska glared, his cruel mouth twisted into a snarl of rage. He brought his hand up and struck his face. "Stupid boy. Only when you have fought as I have, when you have seen your comrades, your friends, your family, killed while you watch, only then will you be able to dictate to me what is honor and what is not. But until you do, it is the decision of my own of what I do and, above all, if I wear the uniform that I do!"  
  
"Old man. It is the likes of you, with your decrepit style of thinking that doom us all in this world. You, with your outdated belief of right and wrong, your twisted and perverted sense of honor, it is people like you who tarnish the reputation of the organizations you inhibit. If you are unable to keep up with the times, then do the world a favor and die."  
  
They glared at each other again.  
  
*****  
  
It took several minutes of checkups and a pair of water bottles before Jamal realized his problem was a combination of nerves and dehydration. He felt renewed, slapping on his helmet and running back onto the field, the roar of approval from the crowd ringing in his ears. This, then was what the game was all about.  
  
Quickly he took the snap and scanned, faking a pass before taking off to his left. No one stopped him and he was able to run his fastest, breaking through the hole and gaining a dozen yards and the first down. Another roar greeted him, and the announcers in the booth were going crazy on the commentary.  
  
He felt invincible, even if only for a minute. It was the greatest feeling of his life.  
  
He got ready for the next snap.  
  
*****  
  
Fighting a Gundam was a bitch, Robyn had decided. It just did not seem to want to die. And it never stopped attacking, always pressing its advantage. She was surviving, at least.  
  
She yelled into her radio. "Help!"  
  
Only static answered her until a small window appeared on her screen. A young man's face appeared. He couldn't have been older than seventeen.  
  
"Help ain't coming for you, like it or not. I have made sure of that."  
  
She stared at his image skeptically. "Who are you, and what do you want?"  
  
He seemed miffed for a second, but recovered quickly. "I am the great Duo Maxwell, pilot of the Gundam 02, otherwise known as the Deathscythe Hell. As for what I want, it's only your life. But you're such a pretty face, might I ask who you are?"  
  
"Learn my name, because you will hear it again. It's Robyn Goodfellow."  
  
He grinned. "If we shadows have offended, eh?"  
  
She glared. "I hate that book."  
  
He ignored her, continuing. "Think but this and all is mended/That you have but slumbered here/While these visions did appear."  
  
He grinned again. "Care to go on?"  
  
"Fine," she spat. "And as I am an honest Puck, you will regret that load of shit."  
  
He opened his mouth but no sound came out. Finally, he spoke again. "I don't think that's how the book went. Care to try again?"  
  
She ignored him and jumped to strike, bringing the shaft around her and igniting it in a burst of energy. The glaive glowed an odd tint of yellow, its energy pulsing from years of abandonment and disuse. It still functioned, however, and was receiving its first major combat in seventeen years.  
  
*****  
  
The chopper landed on the roof and waited. Across the roof a single figure ran, his form shrouded by a cloak. After a minute, Nyroska hopped in.  
  
"Let's go, the score's tied at seventeen. I have a bad feeling something is going to happen. We need to get out of here."  
  
As the chopper's blades began to rotate again, a burst of energy erupted from a short distance away. From the darkness, a massive shadow appeared, a seemingly anti-light that pulsed with a hidden power. It towered above even the heights of the Gundams, a full twenty-four meters. Every part of the titanic MS glinted in the simulated darkness. The only reprieve from the black was the light of its weapons, a diamond based system that absorbed any light and amplified it.  
  
"Avoid him at all costs, as well. He's not on speaking terms with me, believing I'm only here to set up the people of this stadium to die."  
  
Nyroska turned away from the anti-light and stared out the cockpit window. In the distance, small explosion rocked the night and he squinted. Whatever that is, he thought, it's no longer important. All I can hope for is to get out of here with my life.  
  
*****  
  
Ohh...half-time. Time to get this on, in the figurative sort of way. Look for more on this later when I have more time to write some more. And since I forgot it the last two chapters, here's the disclaimer. I don't own Gundam Wing, so I can't get sued if you find this offensive. Most of the people in this story I do own, however and I can do with them what I want.  
  
Colonel 


	5. True Intentions

Jamal hung his head in anger. Why would he lose this game? Because he wanted to save the lives of seventy thousand screaming fans, that's why. He shook his head in anger and looked up. There were flashes in the distance. Who would be shooting off fireworks at half time? The show was only beginning; they shouldn't be coming for another half-hour. The world is full of crazy people, he mused.  
  
A noise came into his helmet and he cocked his head to catch it. It was a voice.  
  
*****  
  
"Mister Henrix, what are you doing?"  
  
Tobias shook his head angrily. Such a promising young man and he was intentionally not playing his best. It was completely unacceptable.  
  
There was a buzz before the answer came through. "Who is this?"  
  
"I am a Colonel in the security assigned to this game. That is all you need to know at this time."  
  
"A Colonel? Oh."  
  
"Why aren't you playing your best?"  
  
"Somebody said that if I played my best and won this game, he would kill everyone in the stadium."  
  
His eyes widened in surprise. "What did this man look like? Answer these and perhaps we can get to the bottom of this."  
  
There was another crackle before the answer came through. "He was short, not much taller than five-and-a-half-feet. He dressed only in black and his eyes had some sort of hate in them. It was like he was unhappy with someone and would hurt everyone to get even."  
  
Tobias flipped the communicator off after a curt thank you and hissed. "Rynn..."  
  
*****  
  
He walked slowly in the shadows, carrying the container of nerve gas. It had been fitted to match into the air vent system of the stadium. Once inserted into the air processing systems, the container would release its agent that would eventually paralyze and kill the entire population of the game.  
  
It was the noise behind him that caused him to turn. His glare landed on the black man. He quickly stuffed the container under his giant coat. "Vick. What do you want?"  
  
"The boss was looking for you. Said something about the death of the stadium. Wants you by his side to help prevent it. No time for anything else. Lets move it."  
  
He stood waiting expectantly. Slowly Rynn raised his eyes, the hate exposed for the first time. "Colonel's pet. Ever since you got here, all you've done is suck up. Do you know how much it pisses me off to see you rubbing your nose in his ass? So for once, I will tell you to go to hell. Just once before I kill you and everyone else here for not knowing me, accepting me, caring for me. Just once. Go. To. Hell."  
  
He sneered and placed the container on the ground and withdrew the pistol he had hidden across his chest. He rotated a single round into the chamber and took aim.  
  
Vick looked at him. "It's always been about you, hasn't it? Only Rynn, no one else. Why? Why do you feel you have to execute so many innocent people?"  
  
"Because I can get away with it. Who do you think it was that lured the Gundam here? It was I, knowing that we would come here. Why do you think I did it? I could pull it off, knowing that the Gundam would take the blame. Does anybody suspect poor, unloved Rynn Skye? No, because as soon as place this container in the air system, I will be gone. Because mysteriously, one of my cousins died and I had to get to a funeral yesterday, followed by my family's tradition of mourning. So I'm not even here today."  
  
"Take your best shot then. You have the upper hand. I can't stop you, since I'm the inferior Vick, the suck-up Vick, the ass-sniffing Vick. Go ahead. You know you've waited a long time for this."  
  
He crossed his arms and stared, accepting what he knew was coming. Slowly the gun came up and positioned itself pointed at his chest. There was a muffled thud as the bullet left the barrel and crossed the gap between them.  
  
*****  
  
Robyn dodged another slice from the Reaper's blade, ducking behind the building nearest so she could charge her supplies for a few precious seconds. It was these short breathers that allowed her to survive, catching her breath and reorganizing herself.  
  
A shadow of darkness passed by and she gasped, afraid for a moment that she had seen a demon flash before her as Death crept up behind her.  
  
Maxwell's voice came over the speakers again. "Come out, come out, wherever you are. Come and play with Maxwell. Come out, come out. Play with Death, why don't you?"  
  
Gundam 02 passed around her and followed the street around to her other side, searching for her. Suddenly he shouted. "What the hell? Oh, shit!"  
  
*****  
  
Tobias took the Gundam in his hands and lifted him ten meters off the ground. He knocked the only visible weapon out of the enemy's hands and hefted him like a rag doll. It would have been amusing under different circumstances. The enemy writhed for a second and finally stilled.  
  
"Gundam pilot 02."  
  
There was silence.  
  
"Gundam pilot 02." His voice was hard. "Talk to me."  
  
After another second of silence, the image of a young man came into view. His brown eyes were suspicious. "What?"  
  
"I know the capabilities of your suit, along with those of all the other Gundams. I am part of an elite Special Forces that were commissioned to hunt you like the dogs you are. Turn on your jammers so that no one can interfere with our talk. What I have to say may get you out of here alive, maybe even unharmed."  
  
The figure flipped a switch and a brief burst of static interrupted the signal before it was restored. Again there was suspicion on his face. "Speak."  
  
Tobias bristled for a second at the impoliteness of the pilot. He ignored it after a second and proceeded. "Inside our squadron we have a traitor. He has already attempted to kill one of our people. He plans to gas everyone in the stadium and pin the blame on you."  
  
The shock was evident. "But I wouldn't do that! I may want to get rid of OZ, but murdering several thousand people to eliminate several high-ranking officers is not my style. That would make me a butcher!"  
  
"Since we are on the same page here, listen to me. I control the situation and I can help you out of this alive. Maybe you will get your Gundam back as well. This is what you must do."  
  
*****  
  
Suspenseful, no? at least I would hope so. As another change for what I hope is the better, I have changed the format so now this is part one of a trilogy, based on the Blackhawks. Don't like it? Tough. My story, my rules. Until the next chapter of any of my stories,  
  
Colonel 


	6. Ghost

It had been too long a game for Jamal to think straight. The pressure of being on football's biggest stage was finally setting in as he realized exactly what it was he was trying to do: lose while presenting a façade that he was trying his hardest. His heart told he could do better.  
  
The voice crackled over the comm again, this time grim over something. "Mr. Henrix, this is the security team lead again. We have taken care of the problem. You are free to play like you wish."  
  
All that he heard then was static, but his head suddenly had the sounds of the game. He was rejuvenated, and he intended to finish the game that way. But first, he would have to overcome the Raider's defense. And there was only one proven way to get through: the Suicide Spread.  
  
*****  
  
The Gundam was almost quivering, Robin saw. It's bulk seemed to twitch with fright at the presence of the Blackheart below it, the Suit that was effortlessly hoisting him into the air like he was a doll.  
  
There was a sudden flare as 02 ignited its boosters and leapt backwards into the air. There was a brief static burst before it knocked a hole into the ground, breaking into the sewer systems. Then before she could do anything, it had vanished like a shadow beneath the light.  
  
She turned to the Colonel, who was watching the hole, almost with satisfaction. He laughed suddenly, a harsh sound of victory.  
  
"What are you laughing at? You just let the enemy get away. You failed our mission. Do you really think that's funny?"  
  
"Do what you will. Just remember, while you are busy doing what you believe to be the 'right' thing, I have a reason for everything I do. All my movements have been calculated so that the desired outcome. If you go and screw it up, remember that the mission failed because it was your fault. I will not stop you, since experience teaches best."  
  
"Fine." With that, she pounced into the hole after 02 and the man who piloted it.  
  
Unfortunately, the dark hid him perfectly and she was unable to find him even with searchlights. She only found the Gundam, abandoned for the time. Slowly she exited her suit and climbed down, curious about it now that the pilot was gone. She grabbed her laptop as she left and found a dry spot on the leg where she could link up. After a moment's pause, she proceeded to begin to dismantle the protective firewalls.  
  
*****  
  
The container fit snugly into the area where the air would begin cycling through in fifteen minutes. Exactly as predicted. The guards had been more intent on the game than paying attention and had been repaid with a shot in the head. Rynn had then discarded his empty gun and grabbed one of their assault rifles. After a moment's consideration, he left the grenades. They would cause too much damage and would inadvertently cause everyone to flee the stadium. That would be bad.  
  
He turned and left the room, the gun tucked beneath his black trench coat. The sunglasses hid his eyes from anyone who knew him. Anyone who came too close would get shot. All he had to do was escape now and everything would be all right.  
  
The trail back was odd. Something was missing, but he could not place his finger on it. The spot where he had shot Vick was unoccupied, a thin trickle of bloodspots leading away.  
  
So somebody took pity and carried him to the morgue.  
  
Slowly, more cautiously, he began to slide into the shadows, trying to escape. No one was around, and he sprinted.  
  
*****  
  
The Spread was working perfectly. Designed to present so many options to the quarterback as possible, it called for the offensive line to deal and take punishing blows so that the running backs and receivers could get through. The only problem was that it ate up linemen like there was no tomorrow.  
  
7:31 remaining in the quarter. 2nd down, three yards left. It looks like this Falcons offense has finally come to life. At the rate they're crossing the field, they can tie it at 27 all.  
  
I agree, Tom, but they'll need a way to get those linemen back in the game or their gonna be staring straight at the defense from hell.  
  
Jamal ignored the pair of them, concentrating instead on how to live this one last set of plays. He ran over the figures once more and decided his plan. With only 19 yards before the touchdown, he would run the ball himself, even if it meant possibly getting injured again. He remembered once in the regular season when he had been forced to run against the Tampa Bay defense. It was nowhere near as formidable as the one that had won their only Super Bowl but had been potent enough to knock him out of the game with a concussion.  
  
He clapped, breaking the huddle, and took his position at the shotgun. He felt the snap break into his hands and he gripped the ball, pump faking once, twice, three times before taking off. He slipped ghost-like through the holes that existed in the wounded defense and began to sprint.  
  
Fifteen.  
  
He felt elated. He was doing it. He was running for a touchdown in the Super Bowl, his dream since first joining his high school football team.  
  
Ten.  
  
No one was close. He could feel it. He held the ball high over his head and grinned like a little boy.  
  
Five.  
  
The defender flattened him from behind. In the one moment that he had lost thought of running, he had slowed enough that the single man had been able to come up behind him. He felt the ball slip out of his outstretched hand and watched as it arched away from him. He hit the ground. Wincing as the 300 pounds of lineman stomped past him, he jumped up to try and recover. With a breath of relief, he saw the ball roll out-of-bounds.  
  
He heard the coach. "What the hell were you thinking?! What makes you think you had the right to parade like this is your high school field? Get over here. I'm benching you for the next few plays."  
  
The world froze as he heard this. "Coach. Please, let me stay in. It won't happen again, I promise. Please, just let me stay in!"  
  
The end was almost a wail of despair.  
  
*****  
  
Why is the helicopter having problems now?  
  
Nyroska's copter had been forced to land because there was a problem with the rotor. Even now, the crew was making emergency repairs in hopes of getting him out of the area before all hell broke loose. But it wasn't happening fast enough. There was no time. He stood waiting.  
  
There was a feeling of unease in his gut, however.  
  
*****  
  
Duo Maxwell heard the announcer in the background. 3:31 remaining. His pack of tools were at his side as he twirled through the air-processing chamber, checking the canisters for the poisons that existed.  
  
I must do this, for my sake and that of everyone here.  
  
"Bingo." He had discovered an odd looking container in the area for the next process cycle. He began to scan it for a defect that he could exploit, rubbing his fingers over it like a man would his lover. There was none to be found. His sigh permeated the air.  
  
He pulled out a large wrench and began to twist, hoping for the best.  
  
*****  
  
He was free. No longer did Rynn have to worry about those in the stadium. He only had to find his Suit and escape. He made his way slowly to the abandoned parking complex where he had hidden it.  
  
When he arrived after a minute and a half, he breathed a sigh of relief that nothing had been disturbed. He climbed up into the Archer.  
  
Based on the frame of either a woman or a thin, lithe man, his Suit was slender and agile, its weapons a pair of Beam Sabers and bow that launched both energy shots and exploding quarrels that could stun a Gundam. As a last resort, he could jettison his cockpit and detonate the Suit into a giant bomb. He had never had to use it.  
  
As he powered to escape, he heard a voice come over his comm. "Where do you think you're going?"  
  
He didn't bother to look at the view. "Who wants to know?"  
  
"The ghost of a fallen pilot." An explosion rocked the complex where he was hidden, forcing Rynn to look. Vick stared back at him, a sneer cut across his face. "I've come to claim the blood of a traitor."  
  
"What makes you so certain?" His voice was shaken, but his usual arrogance was returning. "How are you going to stop me when the entire stadium is about to die."  
  
He received a sneer in return. "That no longer matters, as long as I can kill you!"  
  
He came flying out of the shadows, his Suit glistening from the sudden emergence into the glare of the streetlights. It stood tall, reminiscent of a bat. The wings could spread to allow for flight and fold over for a flexible shield. They could also, if the need arose, be jettisoned to allow even greater mobility. The only weapon was an extendible cloth that glowed with energy[1].  
  
"Now, Rynn Skye, the time has come for you to die. I challenge you to a duel to the death!"  
  
*****  
  
I'm writing again. Ever so slowly, I'm starting to write. Thanks to all my reviewers for leaving me feedback. Keep up the good work. And not to sound greedy, but I want more so I know what I'm doing right or wrong. Also, whenever I have a number in brackets, like this ([1]), I'll leave a note at the end, preceded by that number in brackets, explaining what it is.  
  
So until next chapter, Colonel  
  
[1] To get a better idea of what this is, think something along the lines of the Master Gundam's kow-tow cloth from G Gundam. For those of you who still have no idea what I'm talking about, think of a glowing towel that can stretch up to 50 meters and has the power of Epyon's Heat Rods. 


	7. The End?

Broad Disclaimer: Cause I got caught up in writing the last few chapters, I kinda forgot a disclaimer in them. So here it is for all those missed times and any times I might miss it in the future. I am not privy to the ownership of Gundam Wing or any ideas that I may decide to borrow from other series. I do own all original characters except one, which Seasyngr has so graciously loaned to me.  
  
*****  
  
The firewalls had proven no small task to get through, but Robyn had done it after several minutes of guesswork. She could not understand the encryption that guarded the information behind them, however, and was toiling to break through them. The computer kept beeping at her, but she ignored it.  
  
A single drop of sweat trickled down her face, carving a path through the dust and dirt from the underground. In annoyance, she wiped it away, accidentally knocking the computer out of her hands. It clattered to the ground, but did not shut down or disconnect.  
  
She held her breath. Almost distantly, she heard a conversation play out from the tiny speakers. The voices were both very distinct. One belonged to the Colonel, the other to the Gundam pilot. They were arguing.  
  
"I can get you out of here alive, if you just trust me."  
  
"Why should I believe you? Why would I believe that you'd just let me waltz out of here? How can I be sure this is not some sort of deception to let my guard down?"  
  
"God dammit! If you weren't so anal, maybe you would understand what this is all about!"  
  
"Anal?"  
  
"Yes! This isn't about you or me anymore! Because we do what we do, thousands of people will die tonight, if you didn't listen to me! Ask yourself, is that what you want?"  
  
"No. But people will die? How?"  
  
"There is a traitor in our mist, a man who has no idea what his virulent hatred will do to everyone in that stadium."  
  
"One man will kill everything inside there? How?"  
  
"There are several options. They include an attack with his Mobile Suit, explosives, or a gas attack through the air ventilation systems."  
  
"So what do you want me to do?"  
  
"Stop him. We'll watch out here. You need to check the air room, since that's the easiest to do. You succeed, you get out of here alive. You fail, I will enter that cloud of gas and execute you myself."  
  
"I need some collateral that I will get out safely. Otherwise, no deal."  
  
A slight pause. "I have the access codes to every major OZ installation on Earth and in orbit. They are holding one of the Gundams as a test subject in one. I can give you the code to get it out of there. But you must leave now. On my honor as a soldier, you will get out alive."  
  
There was only static after that. She stared in horror at the machine that had just played the recording. She would not have guessed. Her commanding officer was a traitor. Slowly, hesitantly, she grabbed the computer and ascended through the hole to the streets above. She had to report this.  
  
*****  
  
It had been such a relief to hold the ball after almost getting benched. Jamal slowly rotated it in his grip. Because of interesting plays by both sides, the score had escalated to 34-33 Raiders. They wanted a win, but the defense had hunkered down and was letting nothing through.  
  
He thought of all the time he had spent training for this moment, but nothing seemed to fix the problem at hand. How was he going to get through the defense? A memory rose unbidden to the top of his mind.  
  
He had been five years old, living in the streets because they had been evicted from their house. All he, his mother, and his three brothers had had was a determination to succeed. One day his mother had found a small piece of gold stuck under a car. It was no more than a fleck, but it would have made their life substantially better.  
  
He had tried to get the piece out, failing at every try. But his mother had told him, "You will do this."  
  
She had said nothing else, but on his next attempt he managed to lift the car just enough for his youngest brother to slip the piece out and into the mother's expectant hands.  
  
He shook his head, dispelling the memory. This was not the time for memories; instead, he focused on what his mother had said to him. "You will do this."  
  
He scanned the grim faces around him and thought, "We will do this."  
  
Every pair of eyes glanced into his and saw the determination that blazed in them. "You will do this," they told him.  
  
Jamal felt a new strength well up in him at the thought of those words.  
  
"I will do this."  
  
*****  
  
The crack of the cloth resounded as it snapped at speeds aster than many people could imagine. It danced around before snaking into its target, a blow that knocker back the Archer. Before it could get up, a wave of energy surged and brought unbelievable pain to Rynn as his beloved Suit began to overheat and malfunction. He felt the blood rising to his face. How could he be losing so badly?  
  
"No!" His scream of torture echoed across the rooftops and he grabbed the cloth, twisting it free from Vick's grip. It spun, the energy dissipating as it lost the source of its power. He flung it aside, rising on engines powered by his anger. The saber came out, flaring as it swung around to cleave the head from his target.  
  
It was not to be. The saber wound up buried in the wall, jets of energy jumping away like angry gnats. He felt his rage activate senses that he never knew existed, activating an intuitive sixth sense. Rather than see the motions of his enemy, he felt them. His eyes closed, he was able to respond like few others could: with the precision of a machine.  
  
Without a second thought, he pulled his bow and trained it where he knew Vick would be. He launched a shot that arched and imbedded itself in the face of Vick's Suit. A burst of static blew across all the channels and he sprang forward, the second saber in hand. As he descended, he heard a voice.  
  
"Stop it, Rynn."  
  
A blow lashed out that knocked him off balance long enough for the precisely calculated blow to miss. It skewered the rocks on the ground just feet from where it was intended. He roared and turned, the bow firing a single exploding quarrel that detonated in the Colonel's face. For a single moment, he became sick to his stomach but then remembered who was his enemy now. Swiftly, he plucked his saber from next to the smoking Suit next to him and dashed forward, intending to debilitate him before he could move.  
  
"What happened to you, Rynn?"  
  
Ignoring the voice, he pulled a lever that armed a quarrel. It was designed to explode on impact, a small explosion with the effect of a nuclear weapon. It was his only one and he had no idea of what it would do. But an enemy as ruthless as Tobias had to be killed without hesitation.  
  
"We can still negotiate, Rynn."  
  
"No. We cannot. I just committed genocide. I purposely took the lives of seventy THOUSAND people because I could. I am an enemy to the government. I am an enemy to you. Now die!"  
  
The bolt flew true, its lethal payload delivering enough force to destroy a city to the single Suit. There was a brief silence before it exploded, a parody of the peace and stillness most people expected. Then the shock wave flew out, a layer of air that flattened buildings in the abandoned district of the city.  
  
*****  
  
We are winding down now with three seconds left to play, Tom. If that Falcons offense can't work some magic, they're going to lose.  
  
It would be such a pity, too. To play so hard and be down by two? Let's see what they can come up with.  
  
They have a lot of options, since they ARE at the 5-yard line. But like I said earlier, they will need some serious magic to get out of this with a win.  
  
The beads of sweat were shining in the spotlights, running down every man's face in the final seconds. With the score 42-40, there was no margin for error. Either they scored or they didn't, it was simple as that.  
  
The offense had lined up in kicking formation. The defense lined up to stop it. The ball was snapped and the kicker grabbed it. Sprinting, he dodged both the defenders that were on him almost immediately. He twirled once and saw the time vanish. The end zone was just ahead.  
  
From behind he felt someone grab him and drag him down. At the same time, a flag flew in the corner of his vision. He hit the ground and tumbled, lying in defeat.  
  
He heard the announcers crowning the winners but could not believe the surreality of the moment. He sat.  
  
Jamal hung his head as well and walked to the bench. He had failed his team. If only he had played his best. If only he had not let threats get in the way of the game. If only. But from ahead, he saw a ref raise his hands and signal a penalty.  
  
They had been given another chance. His head lolled back and he grinned. Slowly he put his helmet on and trotted back onto the field. This time, we will do this right.  
  
They lined up again, the kicker standing back again. The entire stadium had fallen silent, the atmosphere of a morgue prevalent. They knew that this single play would decide who won the Super Bowl. Breathlessly they waited.  
  
Slowly, the ball was hiked and placed down. The kicker sprinted forward and nailed it. It spiraled lazily through the air but appeared to be falling short. Jamal fell to his knees and prayed for a miracle. 


	8. Shattered Phoenix

The horror of the moment rolled over Rynn. The weapon had exploded, propelling several million megatons of force into a small area. Nothing could have survived that. And yet, a dull light shone from the detonation site, a dull golden sphere entombing a single mammoth figure, shrouded in darkness. It writhed a second and then stood straight.  
  
He shrieked in horror. "This isn't possible!"  
  
Slowly he began to backpedal, and then vaulted himself into the air, igniting his thrusters to carry himself as far away as possible. He had no chance. A lance of light gripped his systems for the engines, knocking them out of commission and permanently grounding him.  
  
"This can't be happening! Why? Why!"  
  
His voice held abject terror as his brain furiously tried to comprehend a situation he had just had complete control over. He turned to face the light. It had disappeared, leaving only a smoldering pile of scrap. He blinked, his fear neutralizing itself with the absence of threat. Had he just imagined the whole thing? Giddy, he laughed, a raw cackle of triumph.  
  
He had won against the one man who had been a ceiling to his success, against the man who had said he would never go beyond what he was, against the man who had seemed invincible. The one man who could control him.  
  
"No!" Vick launched himself into the air, the cloth streaking from his hand. His Suit was damaged, almost critically, but he did not care. The one man who had supported him through everything, the one man who had earned his trust and loyalty, that one man was dead. He could not accept that fact.  
  
At the same time, Robyn stared in horror at the pair as they dueled, their energy weapons flashing in the sky. She had been about to report her superior for his "treachery," but the crime committed by the man who had killed his was far worse. There was nothing to do now but fight. Slowly picking herself up, she morosely grabbed the glaive and jumped to join the fray. Something held her down.  
  
Frustrated, she threw the weapon back, its blade bursting to life as it struck. She kicked the weight and turned, seeing a stunned Gundam 02.  
  
"Not you again!"  
  
There was pain in the responding voice. "Don't join their fight. They are the ones who need to resolve this conflict."  
  
"What are you talking about? That is my friend against my enemy. The task is obvious."  
  
"Sometimes you need to look beyond what you can see, Puck. Things are not always so black and white. The world is abundant with shades of gray."  
  
"Shades? Gray?"  
  
"Life is not as simple as good against evil. Many of the people who first appear good are not truly so, while many of those who appear to be evil are influenced by noble causes. If you were only to look at the world as right or wrong, no compromise can truly be reached. Shades of gray are what allow actions to be accepted by many different beliefs, whether they agree in general or not."  
  
She sat quietly and ruminated on these new thoughts. "But what the Colonel did earlier, trading the life of Rynn for yours, would that be a shade of gray?"  
  
"Who can truly tell but those who judge these things? If you asked your people in OZ, it would be an act of black. But if you asked those who had their lives saved by his doing so, you will find that a great deal more are willing to accept the escape of a single Gundam in order to save the lives of many thousand innocents."  
  
The silence surrounded her. Would it truly be right to turn in a man who had saved a stadium full of people from certain death? Would it be right to just let it go? A rift tore itself in her heart as she thought it over.  
  
*****  
  
The pair danced agilely through the streets, their short-range boosters incinerating the shrubbery as they passed over it. Their attacks rarely hit at such high speeds, often destroying a building or the property of some civilian. Neither cared. All that mattered now was the battle, albeit for different reasons.  
  
Vick fought to avenge his friend, vengeance at the foremost of his mind.  
  
Rynn fought merely to survive the fury of his foe, forcing him to react instead of being proactive.  
  
They reached a dead end and Archer turned in fear, his weapons unable to come to bear fast enough. The cloth whistled through the air and split open the hand that held the Bow, then twirled around, slicing a gaping gash into Archer's head.  
  
"I will kill you. You realize that, don't you?"  
  
"Forget it, you'll never take me out. There's something you should see behind you."  
  
Instinctively, he twisted, expecting nothing but surprised at the shadow of the night behind him. He convulsed, it's mere presence making him ill.  
  
All that was visible was a gigantic outline, and for a moment they both thought, Colonel? But there was an absence of wings, and it seemed to hover several meters of the ground. The only sign of life was the pair of blazing eyes, ominous slits of red in the shadows.  
  
"Quit your fighting."  
  
Their weapons clattered to the ground. Slowly they backed away. It closed on them. Its arms unfolded, revealing handfuls of claws capable of ripping open any opponent. They gleamed in the starlight.  
  
"Rynn. Give yourself up. You can't win this."  
  
"Never! I didn't give myself up to Colonel Andarion, I didn't give myself up to Vick, and I sure as hell won't give myself up to a damn shadow like you. Prepare to die!"  
  
One of his sabers glared harshly, throwing a shadow over the shadow, revealing the shape of a gleaming mobile suit, the paint shining and throwing around the light. It was the face that was somehow familiar. There was a gleam in the eyes as Archer raised the saber and plunged it down, stirring the air into a storm of angry glimmers of light. At the last second, the shadow moved, revealing empty air and the flash of claws.  
  
Moments later, Rynn yelped and twisted under the grip of the shadow. It held his arm up, the single hand slowly twisting before quickly and violently ripping the arm from its socket, a spray of machinery and oil punctuating the air and a twisting shriek of metal resounded through the empty streets. Archer collapsed.  
  
The shadow raised its hand, the light glinting of its razor fingers.  
  
"Colonel, stop!"  
  
Silence. Nothing moved and nothing made any noise. Finally, Shadow slowly lowered its arm, silent.  
  
"What are you trying to do? What do you hope to accomplish? Have you been reduced to senseless slaughter? Where are the ideals you once held so dear?"  
  
"They died with me."  
  
Archer flashed up, but before he could do anything, Tobias impaled him on the razor edge of his hand, the blade ripping open the cockpit and killing Rynn instantly.  
  
"Bastard."  
  
*****  
  
Tobias winced painfully at the bandage wrapped around his middle. His flight suit was tattered, but it covered the lower half of his body. The bandage covered the majority of the rest. His face bore several scars that hadn't been there previously. The most prominently displayed was the spider web that snaked its way from his right eye up to his forehead , to his temple, and down to his jaw line. His eyes had also lost their color. Instead, his brow seemed to cast the entirety of his upper face in shadows, a reflection of the darkness his soul had gathered.  
  
Sighing at his resistance, Robyn grabbed the scissors and cut the end of the bandage and neatly hiding the end. Standing, she looked at his changed face.  
  
"What are you going to do now?"  
  
"I don't know. Leave, most likely. After that, your guess is as good as mine."  
  
Vick looked up from where he was sitting. "Leave? But you just got back."  
  
"A man such as myself has no place in a civilized society such as this one. I am better of moving far away to some remote portion on space. The moon, perhaps. Or maybe an outlying colony."  
  
"But we can't go on without you. You're what makes us who we are."  
  
The two men turned and looked at her.  
  
"You can cope. I'm leaving Vick in charge. He is my equal."  
  
Then, before anyone could stop him, he got up and left the room.  
  
*****  
  
This ends the first part of three. I hope you enjoyed this, as I'm still pretty new at writing long things like this. If you have any input, comments, criticism, etc., please leave me a review. Until then,  
  
Colonel 


End file.
